Dirt and Roses
by IheartOakenshield193712
Summary: Set on the day the Battle of Five Armies ends. Everyone lives, but Thorin still has the gold sickness. Can Bilbo help him see that life is more important that gold?


**I was trying to work on my other stories while listening to music, and this is what I get. This story is based on the song "Dirt and Roses" by Rise Against (if you know or want to look the song up, some of the lyrics are tied into the story) :3**

**Hope you all like it!... and somehow this turned into a romance story... i dunno how, but it did.  
**

* * *

Erebor, a city in ruins since Smaug's siege, was quiet as now Smaug the Terrible was dead, slain by Bard the bowman. The once strong dwarf kingdom was now the platform of a gruesome battle; The Battle of Five Armies. The lands of Erebor were soaked with the blood of orcs, goblins, elves, humans, and dwarfs. It's protectors and true leaders fought tirelessly among the raging elven and human warriors, trying to steal what was rightfully the dwarfs own. Day and night, the battle went on. Dwarfs smeared the blood of their enemies on _their_ territory, on Erebor. The battle was truly dirt and roses, for the grime and crimson blood covered nearly every warrior on the mountainous turf. Most died in the battle and most lost everything they had to black coffins in the dark.

Thorin Oakenshield, one of at least a hundred dwarfs, remained solemn after the battle. He, like others, counted the dead. He felt himself a corpse, like the ones at his feet, only he did not rot.

From the distance, Bilbo Baggins was staring in true horror at what the devilish events days before had led to. The Arkenstone he stole had caused this. As he gazed at the lifeless creatures around the mountain, he caught sight of Thorin. The dwarf had said some harsh words to him at the gate before all this began, and now, Bilbo could see the dwarf was oblivious to his own decay; the gold sickness was still evident in his crystal eyes. He knew the powerful poison of the Arkenstone was seeping further into Thorin's mind for the dwarf was glaring savagely at him. He could see the blindness in his eyes as he was destined to die under the hand of the dwarf king. If only there were a way to make Thorin see past all this... if only...

The dwarf had begun picking his way through the mound of bodies to the hobbit. He had the look of pure rage in his eyes. Bilbo sighed, the gold sickness was still there and now only _he_ had a few minutes to live. Thorin was striding fast; within minutes he could be right in front of the hobbit. Bilbo had to run; he had to escape this coming tide that yearned to drown him. As fast as he could, he hopped over elves and orcs and humans to find his way to a path with hardly any corpses. He turned ever so slightly to see Thorin on his heels. Breaking into a run, Bilbo ran for the gates of Erebor hoping Thorin would back off.

He didn't; in fact, he ran faster. Orcrist was drawn as he charged towards the hobbit. It was pointed deadly as he drew nearer.

Bilbo continued to run until he met Thranduil and Bard on the outskirts of the dwarf kingdom... or rather, they yanked him aside as Thorin barreled past shouting his name and swing Orcrist menacingly. "What are you doing?!" he shrieked, once Bard had released him in the comfort of the trees, hidden from Thorin.

"The Arkenstone!" Thranduil ordered hotly. "Where is it?!"

"You thief!" Bard joined. "You devil. You took it!" He slapped Bilbo across the face, sending the hobbit to the ground. "Why did you steal it?"

"Steal?!" Bilbo squeaked. "I did not _steal_ anything!" He rubbed his cheek as he stood. "I gave it to you two the night before the battle. If it is lost, it is _your_ fault."

"HOBBIT!" Thorin's voice shouted from the edge of the trees.

Bilbo turned sharply in time to see Orcrist smash tiny bushes and long, lanky trees aside. Thorin was coming. He was coming to kill him. "I do not know where the Arkenstone is. I did not take it." He glanced behind him; Thorin was closer. He faced Thranduil and Bard again and in a low voice he hissed, "I am _not_ a burglar!"

"Yes, you are!" Thorin said gruffly.

Bilbo whipped his head around in time to see a deadly swing of Orcrist just miss his head. Quickly, he unsheathed Sting and caught Orcrist mid swing. To his amazement, the dwarf seemed to stumble as if he were clearly unprepared for the hobbit's actions. He took this time to swing Sting and cut Thorin's wrist ever so slightly. The dwarf king dropped Orcrist in surprise and Bilbo raised Sting to his neck. With dead fury in his green eyes, Bilbo knocked Thorin down onto his back and pressed the tip of the letter opener to the nape of the dwarf's neck. Both Thranduil and Bard stared with wide eyes as the hobbit put one hairy foot onto Thorin's armor clad chest. "You are losing yourself in the gold," he said in a cold voice that sent chills down Thorin's spine. "You are becoming like your grandfather. _Like Thror_." He lifted Sting from his neck and moved his foot off the dwarf's chest.

Thorin immediately stood and reached for Orcrist, but Bilbo turned sharply when Thorin was mid-crouch.

"You'll regret each passing day if you kill me," Bilbo said coldly. "I am nothing more than a hobbit from the Shire. Kill me if you wish, but you will _die_ of the gold sickness. You will."

Thorin picked up Orcrist and sheathed her. He stared mildly at Bilbo who was still huffing from his last claim. Slowly, he nodded and bowed deeply to the hobbit who looked taken aback. "Thank you, Bilbo," he said. "I do believe I would have died if you had not saved me." He eyed Thranduil and Bard warily as they did the same. Turning his attention to Thranduil alone, he asked, "Where is the Arkenstone?"

Bilbo watched as the elf king and the bowman rubbed their necks nervously and stuttered for a few minutes before simply shrugging.

Thorin... actually... chuckled... to an... elf. Bilbo gave him a sideways glance. "It does not matter where the Arkenstone is, as long as it is safe."

Thranduil and Bard nodded.

"Excuse us," Thorin said calmly. He grabbed Bilbo by the elbow and led him out of the trees. They kept walking until they reached the gates of Erebor, that is when Thorin turned sharply and glared at the hobbit. "Why?"

Bilbo looked down at his hairy feet. "I didn't want you to die," he said in a small voice. "I am sorry if you wished to lose yourself to the gold sickness. I did not know."

The dwarf caught his chin and lifted his face so that their eyes were level, both sapphire and emerald staring into each other. "I am not mad, I did not wish to die. Thank you, Bilbo, for making me see what I had done to you and everyone else. I... Erebor used to be alive just as my father and grandfather used to. There was so much profit and wealth here as in Dale; I do not know how my grandfather abandoned us to covet gold. Everything in that life was worth living for..." Thorin's voice caught. He moved his hand to stroke Bilbo's hairless face. "When Smaug attacked, death was upon us. I watched my friends parish in the flames of that _beast_. The town of Dale called for aid; they sounded the alarms but it was too late. The sky turned red with scorching fire and the blood of the innocent. Then came the rain; the tears of the living for their dead relatives.

"I did everything I could," Thorin continued, running his thumb over the Bilbo's bottom lip. "I found work in the villages of men until I decided to journey here with twelve dwarfs and one very annoying hobbit."

Bilbo ran a comforting hand through Thorin's tangled and sweaty locks as the dwarf continued.

"Dwarfs, my own kin, advised me against this quest. They told me it was a bad plan. I did not believe them; I did not _want_ to believe them. I had picked an army of twelve loyal dwarfs that I knew would not abandon their leader and his quest to reclaim Erebor." He let out a ragged sigh and Bilbo smiled encouragingly at him. "When the battle began, it all came crashing forward. I had led my friends into this perilous journey because I had succumbed to the greed of the mountain. I built their fates and I ended up killing them in the end."

"No," Bilbo answered. "You did not kill them. They are here."

Thorin looked down in shame.

"Thorin," Bilbo tried again. "They would never abandon you no matter what you put them through. All have survived. Look," he said, pointing to two dwarfs in an embrace, one with blond and the other with brown hair. "They are _alive_ as are you." He hugged the dwarf prince tightly. "The fallen warriors were defending their homeland for you; for their king. They do not believe you have done them wrong. Thorin, they are as loyal as anyone would ever be."

The dwarf prince looked up into Bilbo's emerald eyes, and Bilbo saw sadness behind his hard stare.

"_We_ are alive. _We_ were spared," Bilbo said, grasping Thorin's large hands in his own two. He smiled at Thorin who returned it. "I, myself, did not know how much death and gore was to be here, but I swear you tried to stop it though the sickness had already taken you. I was about to give up on this _godforsaken sight_ until I saw the immense blindness you had, and I knew I had to save you." Bilbo felt tears come to his eyes. "I _had_ to save you because I-"

"Love you too," Thorin finished with a strong kiss to Bilbo's lips.

"Yes," Bilbo gasped once the kiss ceased. He wrapped his arms around Thorin's neck as the dwarf hugged him fiercely. He slightly pulled back and looked at Thorin. "Where _is_ the Arkenstone?"

Thorin chuckled. "It is gone. I stole it from Thranduil to destroy it." He smiled as Bilbo nodded in understanding. "Bilbo, I will never succumb to this sickness again. I will _never_ lose you for the chance of more gold," Thorin declared. "And we will live each passing day... together."


End file.
